Problem Customer
by Morganofthefairies
Summary: Companion piece to 'Keep Your Enemies Closer'.'He looks like he popped right out of a Kelvin Klein billboard, walking in with the confident stride of someone who knows they look amazing or rich, perhaps both.' Morgan finds work quite interesting today...


**Author's Note: Thisis another little ficlet to go with my story 'Keep Your Enemies Closer' except it's not so little. It's not my faultI swear, it's just...he's...so hot. I think it can be read as a stand alone without any major confusion. Review please, as I would love to hear your feedback:D**

**Thanks to amy, who listens to my constant verbal vomit and is always reassuring me. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own lost or any of the characters. I do own Morgan though. I also took this line... _"I'm trying to think of a way for you to be cruder; it's just…not coming." _from Firefly. teehee it makes me think of Jayne.**

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**Problem Customer**

I sigh.

It's been fifteen minutes since the last person has entered the shop; and she didn't even buy anything, she just wanted change. Don't people read anymore?

My eyes scan the crowd of people walking briskly past the shop, mostly girls around my age who probably don't read anything other than 'Cleo' or 'New Idea', lugging around bags full of clothes with the money their daddies gave them. I could be one of them, except my real dad lives in Sydney-a good 9 hour drive away- and my step-dad is nothing put a perverted old man who can't keep his hands off little girls. Mum, of course, pretends she has no idea what's going on. _How could she not?_ I am scowling now, and force myself not to think about it anymore.

I look up at the clock hanging on the wall. 12:42.

I decide I'll go a few minutes early for lunch, and open the draw at the counter, pulling out my purse. Just when I think I can sneak away someone walks into the shop and I have to stop myself from gaping.

He is gorgeous.

He looks like he popped right out of a Kelvin Klein billboard; walking in with the confident stride of someone who knows they look amazing or rich; perhaps both. He runs a hand through his black hair, showcasing impossibly blue eyes for a moment before they are hidden again behind the dark strands. I know I should smile at him and enquire if he would like any help but I've always felt inferior and shy around beautiful people. Eventually I put my purse away and build up the courage and walk over to him. _It is my job after all_; _and lunch can wait._

"Would you like any help or are you just browsing?" I say in a cheery and somewhat breathless voice.

"Umm… yeah- actually this is a little embarrassing- I'm looking for a copy of Watership Down," he says in an American accent. When his eyes lock on mine all coherent thought is knocked out of me.

"Watership Down... Rabbits, right?" I say in a slightly wistful voice.

He laughs, showing perfect white teeth. "Yeah."

"Well…it might be in umm…." I lose my train of thought and realize I am twirling a lock of my long dark hair around my finger. I immediately let it go and visibly shake my head to clear my thoughts. He smiles charmingly and it almost happens all over again.

"Sorry. It could be in classics or the children's section, so I'll just check on the computer for you." I walk briskly over to the counter and type into the computer, whilst reprimanding myself. _You're acting like a bloody schoolgirl. _Four matches come up under classics, and I usher the attractive gu_y _over to that section, picking up a paperback copy of 'Watership Down'.

"Here it is. There's a few different editions but it's all the same really."

"That one is perfect, thanks." His hand brushes mine softly and I feel a blush slowly spread on my cheeks as I smile up shyly at him.

"Oh, it was no-no trouble." I say whilst coyly looking up at him through my lashes. He takes in a quick breath; clearly about so say something, when the moment is shattered.

"Boone! I don't know why I am surprised to find you _here_. Looking for a book? Maybe one with a damsel in distress and an idiot knight trying to save her; seems right up your ally," a tall leggy blonde says arrogantly. She has an American accent also, and I think jealously that this is probably his girlfriend.

"Oh bravo Shannon, you actually know what a book is," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the blonde.

"Just 'cause I don't like books doesn't mean I don't know what they are. Kind of like you Boone; I don't like you, but I know what you are. You're a jealous-"

He-Boone- turns away from her and stands directly in front of me, effectively blocking her. "Spare me, Shannon. I'm in the middle of something here."

She crosses her arms angrily and purses her lips. "Oh really?" she says, glaring at the back of his head. She then steps in front of him so that we are very close together. "Excuse me, do you sell like…magazines here?" she inquires, tingeing her voice with a fake sugary sweetness.

We don't, as she probably knows. Clearly she is just trying to annoy the poor guy. "Well, I know the newsagents-"

"You're such a spoilt brat." The guy says irritably towards the blonde.

"Oh, _I'm_ a spoilt brat, look at you! I am just as much a customer in this shop as you," she yells, and I look around to make sure she isn't making a scene. A few passers-by look in, suddenly interested in the argument going on.

"She was already serving me," he says in a low voice, also looking around uncomfortably for a moment. Obviously I'm not the only one worried about making a scene; unfortunately the blonde girl has no such worries.

"Oh she was _serving_ you, was she? Are you going to let him speak to you like that?" She locks her angry eyes on mine. What on earth does she want me to do, start protesting women's rights! I've seen bratty children nagging their parents numerous times but never have I been in a situation like this. They're practically fighting over me I realize, and would laugh if I wasn't so scared that I'm going to lose my job.

"I umm-"

"It's a figure of speech, Shannon." He looks down at my name tag for a moment, "Morgan and I were actually having a conversation."

She sneers up at him, still not backing down. I wonder what this guy has done to make her so aggravated, or perhaps she is just a spoilt brat like he suggested. "Oh I bet you were. You're such a perve, you can't even go into a shop without sizing up everything that has a vagina." I feel my cheeks redden at her not-so-subtle insinuation.

He visibly winces at her blunt use of words. "I'm trying to think of a way for you to be cruder; it's just…not coming."

"Let's hope that's the only thing that isn't coming." She leans over towards me and says in a stage-whisper, "I'd watch out if I were you, he'll pounce any minute." She then flounces off with a malicious look in his direction.

I watch her leave with my eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. When I turn back to my customer there is a blush on his cheeks. "I'm so sorry about that, she's…"

"An ex girlfriend?" I guess with a small grin.

"I was going to say insane, but no, she's my step sister."

For some reason I am glad to hear this news. "Well…she certainly isn't a fan," I say conversationally, my grin turning into a full fledged smile.

He laughs, and for some bizarre reason I feel proud that I made him do it, as if it is some amazing feat. "You noticed that too, huh?"

I nod in agreement and take a moment to study his face. His blue eyes are most definitely his most striking feature, surrounded by long dark lashes that most girls would be envious of. His mouth is full and could almost be called feminine if not for the slight stubble surrounding it and an unmistakably masculine jaw.

As if he could read my not-so-innocent thoughts his smile fades and he clears his throat loudly.

"About what she said before, the whole me being a pervert thing, I…I'm not," He says earnestly, looking me straight in the eyes. It surprises me that he even feels the need to rectify what his sister said about him to _me_; somebody he has known a total of three minutes and will most likely never see again. In a flurry of confusion we both start talking at the same time.

"Oh no, I never thought-"

"…I don't even have a girlfriend, and I-"

"-It's not my place to judge-"

"-don't usually act this way around random shop assistants but you're…different."

"…I mean, look at you, I don't blame girls for falling all over you."

As soon as I hear his last statement I look up at him in shock and he does the same upon hearing my admission. I instantly avert my gaze and change the topic to something I am much more comfortable with.

"So…you're getting just the one book then?"

He blinks in confusion. "Yeah, thanks."

"That'll be fifteen dollars, please," I say in my usual polite tone that I use on all the customers.

He takes a moment to file through some notes and presses them into my palm. "You're money's all colourful and plastic, it takes ages for me to find what I'm looking for," he admits shyly. I laugh and grab a bag to put the book in, but when I turn back towards him he's bent over the counter, writing on something. My brow furrows, but before I have time to ponder what he is doing he's up and smiling charmingly again.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you Morgan," he says, taking the bag from me.

"Yes, you too. I would say 'have a nice day' but…well, judging by your sisters temper…"

He laughs and pushes something across the table. I look down, and on the counter is a business card; _his_ business card. I read it and then turn it over; on the back is a small message:

_I knew where my book was all along, but you're hard to say no to._

_If you're ever in America…_

When I look back up I see him for an instant before he vanishes into the shopping crowd. I smile to myself, thoroughly pleased and surprised with the events that just occured.

I open up my handbag, and put the card in; right next to my two Oceanic tickets to L.A.

I shiver.

Eight days to go.

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**A/N: please review! If me wanting to know what you think isn't a good enough reason then perhaps this is...it is 2:46 in the morning andI stayed up extra late finishing this beforeI go to my dads for the weekend in hmm...6 hours. UGH...am in need of coffee. :D**


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